Toxic
by TangledUpLies
Summary: When the bad and good bleed together, there is them.


Hello! It's been another long while since I've posted anything, so I hope readers are still interested in my writing. How I will start my brand new posting in that long while angers me so much though because this was not the way I ever imagined myself starting any of my notes. But I feel like I must do it. This might take a bit, but I hope it doesn't turn people away from my story later on.

I just wanted to let everyone know that what I write, _I_ write. Meaning I don't copy and paste anything and claim it as my own. My stories may be similar to other in summaries and storylines. This fandom, in my opinion, _can_ be limited in some cases, not all, so situations may look and sound familiar after a bit. And sometimes when you read other author's works (fanfiction or real novels), you may get inspired with their styles. That I understand. Some things are different though. Why I am bringing this up is because there is a fellow FFN author who copied my ENTIRE _Inevitable_ story, word for word, grammar mistakes and all, and pasted it as her story under a new title on another site. Not only that, but she had plans to finish putting up my other two parts, _Until Then_ and _Welcome Home_, to finish the series and claim those as her works too. I posted my story in July. She (re)posted it in October. There is a big time difference there. I confronted her, and she said she had the idea in June (really?), that she thought of it all by herself. I was not born yesterday nor am I stupid. Not only that, but she told me she had no access to this site at school, which I don't even know why it was relevant because internet access can be at home too. She said she had never read my story/ies, yet I have proof that she has had because she uses the same username in many areas. She even favored my stories and immediately removed _Inevitable_ from her favorite list after I caught her. And I found her mentioning elsewhere that she was reading my stories. Her claims were that her friend uses her account and that her said friend wrote part of something and gave it to her to finish writing. Yet I still did not believe her because she failed to explain how everything I wrote, she wrote. The grammar mistakes I made were in the exact same places; like it was some major coincidence or that we even share the same minds. The best thing was that she had the audacity to call me unbelievable because I would not buy into her bull. She stole something that belonged to me, something that I put so much love and effort into, taking it as her own and relishing in the praises from people who were reading it on this other site. Those same people, who were praising her, had nerves to tell me to not be nasty and believe she is still the writer of _Inevitable_, even after I posted a link to my story there. Also what amazed me even more, was that she still refused to admit what she stole and continued letting people think she's honest. She even found it a hassle to remove MY STORY from this other site. I will not say who this FFN author is here, but she knows who she is, and I guarantee she is reading this because I do not believe she will stop visiting this site. I informed her I didn't want nor need her support and to just not read what I put up. She has dozens and dozens of stories from many writers, including mine own stories still, on her favorites list. I stopped replying to this user on the site I found my story posted because it's useless talking to walls and continuing dealing with this waste of space would just be taking away my time. Some reading this may think, I am overreacting because this is just fanfiction or I'm being a complete child for calling this out publicly and going on a rampage in my note making me look bad. Everyone is entitled to what they think, so be it. But my writing is so important to me, and I had to do it, here, for everyone who reads my stories because I do not want the people to read my stories to ever imagine I would ever intentionally do something so atrocious and rip someone off because it _really_ sucks. When things like this happen, it makes me feel uneasy posting. Because now I look at what I do, and sometimes even try to write, I think of this situation again and it hurts to have to imagine someone taking away _my_ credit and hard work. I hope no one here ever has to experience this because it's a horrible feeling that sticks for a while.

And now that that is done with, I want to still thank everyone who reviewed and added _Wonderland_ to their favorites list. Y'all are too sweet, and it's greatly appreciated! I've gotten busy with my classes, and my writing still isn't as superb as I wanted it to be even after so long, and said above situation has troubled me quite some, I'm still working on everything and continuously trying to improve myself. This story was a working progress because I began this in the middle of September after listening to the same song on repeat for hours. Since then, I tried writing little drabbles here and there pertaining to that song and building it up as I listened to other songs as well as reading poems for my class. It was difficult putting the pieces together to make it whole, but I did it! I hope the entire thing doesn't seem strange because this was an experiment for me essentially. I did honestly work hard to make things flow and not seem weird or have parts out of place. Mistakes are still on me. I apologize if people find them. I tried to catch them all. So I'd like to wish that everyone hopefully has a happy reading. Please remember to review afterwards because I would love and welcome the thoughts, comments, and whatevs. Thanks a bunch! =]

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**1. Warnings**

People don't come with warnings. Not visible ones anyway.

There is no stamp on their foreheads for the world to see. There is no letter hung around their necks like that adulteress with the 'A' alarming others of what she had done. There is no label on their arms or on their backs saying how much of this and how much of that is in them.

There is nothing. People have to guess. People have to dig.

He thinks there should be though. He wished there was.

If people come with (visible) warnings, he could save himself a lot of trouble.

**2. Harmless**

In D.C he meets her for the first time, he recalls. Although he doesn't remember the date, he remembers the day. And if he is correct (which he doesn't doubt), it was a Thursday morning.

He's new and working for her mother. That's why he meets her.

She's young. Her slim and delicate fingers tuck her long dark tresses behind her ear. He sticks his hand out for her to shake. Those slim and delicate fingers that touched her hair have their own grip, and he is startled. She flashes him a smile. He gives her his own smile without hesitation.

"Emily Prentiss."

"Aaron Hotchner."

First meetings are everything, and everything about her looks harmless.

**3. Again**

Twenty years later, he meets her again. This time it's in his office, and they shake hands and smile like their first encounter.

He doesn't know why she's there with a box of her things. He dismisses her because he tells her it's a mistake and goes on the plane to St. Louis.

Four days later, he comes home and thinks she's been there during the whole time. He dismisses her again, but she doesn't budge.

She's staying (because she's being used, and neither she nor he knows until much later. And even after trust issues are brought up because she's new and all are revealed that her job has strings attached, she remains on the team and beside him on the field, gaining his trust and confidence in the long run).

**4. Coffee**

On Friday (the thirteenth day) in March, she buys him coffee and places it next to the piles of folders and papers. Hotch gives her a skeptical look because she does not buy coffee for him. Not once, not ever. She laughs.

"There's no poison in it. I promise. It's just coffee."

Emily walks away, and he smells the coffee, just to make sure because he remembers the date. It smells like coffee. Then he takes a sip.

It's good coffee.

**5. Poker**

On the flight back from Nashville, they play poker (the Chinese Version); just her and him. He's learning, but she already knows. So she plays teacher while he plays student.

"If you weren't here, what do you think you'll be doing?" She puts down a pair of tens. "Can you beat that?"

He stares at his hand and places down a pair of queens. "Tucking in Jack."

Emily means with the job and puts down a pair of twos. Hotch nods and looks down as his cards and he passes. But his answer's still the same with a little something extra in the end in a deadpanned tone. "… And probably still married." He watches as she puts down an ace that he passes on once again. "What about you? What do you think you'll be doing if you weren't here?"

His question is ignored though because she puts down her final card instead and says, "I win."

**6. Lonely**

There's a difference between being alone and being lonely.

Being alone only categorizes as having some solitude. It's just some desired space apart from others to think or to dream before the footsteps are heard back in, company is welcomed and there's a smile back on the face.

It's a choice.

Being lonely, however, categorizes as having more than enough solitude. There's so much that it's too much. There are no footsteps after a while, company is no where to be seen and there's no smile back on the face.

It's not a choice.

Hotch's the latter. He's lonely. He will not deny it because he's known it for a while.

**7. Hearts**

In Charlotte, hearts are carved out for keeps, for treasure, for prizes. Hotch thinks hearts are all those, but not in that creepy way.

He doesn't sleep because in the dark and quiet hotel room, he hears his heart.

Thump, thump, thump.

It makes him uncomfortable so he dresses and goes down to the bar and orders himself a drink. It's only a little louder because it's late so the thumps are still heard (in a distance).

"Mind a little company?"

Hotch sees her face crystal clear. Makeup less and tired in the soft lit bar, she looks different. She can't sleep either because she thinks about the hearts. She hears them too. She hears her heart. She wants a little noise.

Thump, thump, thump.

"No."

He wouldn't mind at all.

**8. Backless**

In Houston, they look for a man (white and in his early 30's) killing women he picks up from speed dating parties.

She's the bait (again), but she grins because she's not alone this time. He's watching her; has her back; her whole back because she wears a backless charcoal grey color dress that makes him stare too long and makes his mouth a little too dry when he does stare too long. And when the bell rings in the crowded restaurant and seats are switched and hands are shook from stranger to stranger, she smiles when she sees a (his) familiar face. They (She) plays along with what they have to do, and he finds it very amusing.

"I'm Emily."

He arches an eyebrow up at her before responding.

"Aaron."

"Well, Aaron, it's very nice to meet you. And might I add that I think your fairly handsome," she says with a smile.

He doesn't know if she means it or just pulling his leg, but he laughs and grins (feeling the dimples on his face) anyway because the smile on her face is currently too contagious.

"So what do you do for a living?"

They're supposed to be looking for a serial killer.

**9. Unconsciously**

He leaves her lips and makes his journey to her neck, sucking and almost biting her. She reminds him through her gasps that she has no turtlenecks on the trip with her. So he reluctantly trails his lips down to her collarbone, nuzzling into the soft flesh there before moving his attention to her breasts. His mouth finds her nipples, and he allows his tongue to lick her hard nubs before she feels the sudden suction from him. She moans while her fingers thread through his hair before her hands are holding his head in place over her breasts as he continues to suck. When his hand slithers slowly up her inner thighs, his fingers looking for her warmth, his name leaves her mouth in a gasp, and he wakes up alone in his bed.

**10. No**

On the car ride back to the hotel in suburbs of Boise (brunettes were the targets); she sits in the passenger seat, her vacant stare out to the world with her elbow propped on the window.

He's driving and it's just the two of them. His eyes shift from her to the road and he doesn't think she realizes what he's doing. And when fifteen minutes pass in silence, he asks quietly because he doesn't want to scare her, "Are you okay?"

She turns her head and looks at him briefly before gazing back out to the lit streets.

"No."

**11. Touch**

He has trouble recalling about the last time he's been touched. He's not counting himself because he classifies that to be touched means to be touched by someone else. Those hands that touch him have to belong to someone else. They'll just be slightly smaller than his and for a moment he considers her slightly smaller hands touching him before shaking his head because thoughts like that shouldn't happen.

But still, that's how that game goes, and he wants to play.

**12. Someone**

On the jet back home from Buffalo, he finds her awake like the many other times. Her eyes are tired, but opened. "You're not asleep."

"Neither are you."

He sits beside her, and he notices how she shifts a little closer to the left, away from him as she props her head up with her hand. But he doesn't say anything. "I just want to get home to Jack, so I can't really sleep."

"He misses you, doesn't he?" Her question contains an obvious answer, but she asks anyway. She picks the imaginary lint off the blanket covering her.

"He does. He won a goldfish… at the school carnival yesterday. He's excited to show me him. And I'm excited to see him… and Jack, of course," he chuckles lightly with his response. "I imagine you're excited to get home too? It's been a long three days."

"Just a little."

"Why just a little?"

There is no hesitation with his inquiry. He stares at her semi curiously from her side, and she doesn't like it. She feels it despite not looking at him, and she almost regrets her answer because the longer he stares, the more she knows he wants a response. So after a minute, she meekly replies with eyes still away from him and on the blanket, "Because I don't have someone to go home to."

**13. Underneath**

For the first time, he's thinking about who she really is, underneath all that compartmentalizing she does. If she had a label on her, he's interested what would it tell him.

**14. Red**

One week later on a Friday, she's in a skirt.

She's rarely in a skirt, but he doesn't say it. She looks nice with the skirt that clings to her hips, the red lips that look a little pulp and the eggplant color blouse that hugs her chest. He thinks all of that, but he doesn't say any of it either.

There are no cases so it is paperwork all day long. And when eight o' clock rolls around, she knocks on his door, walks in when he tells her to and sits herself in the chair before him

"Everyone's going out for drinks. Coming?"

If she stays there longer, yes, he's coming because he has thought about her once or twice today in her skirt. He declines because he's going home.

"Have a good night then, sir."

"You too." His voice is calm, but his insides want to burst though.

Emily stands and turns to leave, and his eyes remain on her for every second. Her hips sway. The slit on the back of her skirt is high. He thinks it's almost in the danger zone. His eyes gaze down to her legs. He imagines how it would feel to have them wrap around him (even when he tries to shake the unsettling image). His attention moves down to her shoes, and he notices for the first time. All day he sees her in the skirt, but he fails to see this until now. They are different. From the other shoes he has seen her wear, these shoes are different.

The soles are a blood red.

It takes him a second to register that color; it matches his tie.

**15. Sinner**

He thinks about her. Her lips, her legs, her eyes, and her breasts- he thinks about those too.

And before he sleeps, Hotch supposes that maybe he's committing a sin for thinking about her like this.

**16. Jaded**

"Do you think the job's made you jaded?"

"No… I think I already was before."

**17. Intuition**

In Baltimore, nine days later, they need to find another someone who believes women are toys. These women look like her, and she's uneasy because this someone is good. He gets uneasy when he sees her uneasy.

And when Emily's bait (once again), she tells him she hates it more this time because she senses that something bad might happen. She's got a bad feeling she cannot erase and picks her nail when he finds her outside the station. He whispers that she doesn't have to do it, and they will find another way because they're smart like that. But she only reminds him with a faltering smile that she has to because it's her job and fear should be placed in the back burner.

**18. Save**

She is right though because something bad almost does happen since she was pushed against the brick wall accompanied with a hit to her temple. It's topped off when she nearly gets shot. But Hotch shoots first from behind and saves her, leaving the damage done to her back and her temple only. And when they take away that dead someone, who could have ended her life in the dead body bag, she stares at Hotch for a while wanting to tell him that maybe she should have listened to him after all.

**19. Gratitude**

He checks on her when it's late because he's a lot worried. He knocks three times, but she doesn't answer. He judges then it's best to leave her alone until tomorrow morning.

But when he lies in his bed, eyes wide open because he's thinking about her again, there is a knock on his door. She is on the other side, and he invites her in.

"Thank you."

It's all Emily says before she steps towards him and presses her lips to his.

**20. Burn**

His lips burn when hers touch his. He can't determine if it's good or bad. But he does believe it's not from pain. It's from something else. Something he has trouble pinpointing at the moment because it feels really good to kiss her.

**21. Paralyze**

She pulls away first because she needs oxygen. Her head turns slightly and his forehead touches her temple (the non bruised side). Her eyes avoid his, and he profiles that maybe that wasn't her intention, kissing him. But he doesn't mind it because he's glad that he didn't have to make the first move (he's never been smooth at that). But now all he wants is another taste of her (even though he knows he shouldn't because this is wrong and she's in a weak state), and he brings her closer again, inching his lips to hers.

"Just tell me to stop."

But her words are paralyzed.

**22. Game**

She's touching him.

Her fingers, still slim and delicate, wrap around him. He's big, bigger than she imagines, and she grips and squeezes hard after a minute. He hears his sharp inhale and her faint gasp.

With her hands now she touches him, feeling every centimeter, every ridge of him. And when he relaxes and her hands are done touching, she touches (tastes) him with her lips, her tongue and he discovers that she likes to suck and bite hard.

He's (finally) playing the game (and it's with her).

**23. Clear**

Then her legs spread for him and he gets to fuck her. He's penetrating into her as her begs fill his ears. She moans his given name, and it rings like sirens in his ears. Her legs tangled around his hips (rocking into her in a slow motion when he and she come because they can't control it anymore), and he deems that feeling it is better than imagining it.

The world is a lot dizzier, but he still sees clearly.

**24. Loud**

When it's too quiet in the room and all she can hear is his steady breathing and her thoughts, Emily licks her lips and climbs out of his warm bed to put her clothes back on to go sleep in her cold bed.

**25. Buried**

It (him sleeping with her) was only suppose to be in his head, buried deep under the loneliness he knows and feels when he lies still in his bed alone at night.

**26. Glances**

Next morning he finds her gone. Hotch half expects it, but he's also half surprised by it. And they (she especially) don't look at one another when they meet again. Not in the car, not on the jet. Not one glimpse.

But when they arrive back home and she's fast as she climbs into her car, he takes a quick glance her way only catches the back of her head.

**27. Speak**

They don't talk about it. It is never mentioned (a part of him doesn't even know how to approach it; her) because it shouldn't have happened.

**28. Stutter**

Five days later, after she barely makes any contact with him, Emily knocks on his door once again and looks at him like she had done a hundred times before.

"You wanted the Morris files?"

He's shocked, and his answer comes about almost in a stutter. "Yeah… as soon as possible, please."

She smiles, "Well do."

And with that, she leaves to finish the Morris files as soon as possible.

**29. Normal**

Things are normal between them. They work. They talk. He's Hotch. She's Prentiss. But then he remembers it when he stares at her for a minute too long. Every detail and every second, he remembers.

**30. Haunting**

There should be something that tells him why when he closes his eyes; he cannot stop remembering about her on him when he's not remembering about him on her.

**31. Temptation**

He hates Foyet. It's a given. He took away his family. He hates him so much that at times when he imagines his son's smile and hears his giggles, he would kill Foyet only to bring him back up from the dead to watch him burn alive for all the damage he has done.

But for another reason, a reason he doesn't yet knows how to categorize whether it is bad or good; he hates him because he gives her back to him. Because of him, he's tempted once again and he can't turn away.

She drops him off again, and again, she goes to check on him, trying to talk to him, because she finds herself doing that a little too much even when she thinks she shouldn't. But she sees something. His dark eyes sinking into her, and she knows. So she takes the few steps closer to him.

"It's okay," she whispers to him against his lips. His arms snake around her slim waist before he is hungrily devouring the lips he remembers from the first time.

There are no inhibitions. There is no fighting. He's feeling something other than alternating pain and numbness when he is in her, and he will not deny that it feels good to feel something besides those two. She gives herself to him, and she notes that he's rough. From the anger, from the stress, from Foyet, it doesn't matter because she understands. He is desperate to feel something good. So for the night she is his for however long he wants and wherever he wants so he gets to feel that something good.

**32. Easy **

She leaves again in the night when she's sure he's asleep because she knows it's easier to escape that way.

**33. Similar**

They don't talk about this time either.

They're too busy looking for Foyet anyway.

**34. Rejection**

Rejection is difficult, and he can't reject her.

**35. Scotch**

In Lincoln a few weeks after, little boys are murdered. He hates these cases because he thinks of Jack, and when he sees little dead boys in front of him, he wants Jack to be the last thing on his mind. He wants to be home with his son, not here, looking at families with dead little boys. He's arguing too much because he wants this case done as fast as possible. So he's a little too angry, he has to take a lot more deep breaths, and he needs too much fresh air.

And when it's late, Emily knocks on his door with a proposition. He stares at her in his doorway. She waits seven seconds before he opens his mouth and asks what she's doing there, in front of his room, and she pushes him aside and invites herself in because she doesn't think he would have an issue with it. She sees the open bottle of scotch on the table and reminds him that drinking away problems does him no good because he'll feel like shit tomorrow. They still have to work tomorrow, she reminds him. His voice is stern (she likes it) as he tells her she should go back to her room, but she only suggests that he find another way to ease his frustrations. He tells her to leave this time not so subtly because in the back of his mind, he does think of another way to ease it, but it involves her, and he doesn't think it should happen again because once and twice happen when once and twice shouldn't have.

She steps towards him though, and tells him to just do it because she knows he wants (needs) to. Their breathing matches and his tickles her lips and the tip of her nose. And after two minutes of battling how close she is to him, his hands grab her face, and his mouth latch on to hers.

The after taste is on his lips, on his tongue, and she remembers that she always liked scotch.

**36. Her**

What she said, about him feeling like shit in the morning, is not a lie because he does. It's just not from the scotch.

**37. Control**

Things (They) are going to be spiraling out of control. He feels it. He knows it.

**38. Hands**

No hands, she tells him in Jackson.

She holds him, and for a brief moment, she recalls the first time she held him before in Baltimore as she lowers herself down. Her mouth is inching nearer to him. He thinks he hears his quick and short breaths. She blows on him, the cool air giving him goosebumps. Then she wraps her lips around him and he closes his eyes. And when she engulfs him in as far and as deep as her mouth and throat allows her to, she sucks with force while her tongue dances around the underside, and he grabs hold of the sheets beneath them.

Hotch wrestles with the urge to hold her still, to tangle his hands into her hair pushing her forward into him because he remembers what she told him.

No hands.

**39. Unknown**

It's a game. He's player one. She's player two. And together they're supposed to fight together. Fight what it's unknown because it's still a blur to her. There are levels. Pass one level to reach another. Ultimately they'll find what they have to beat.

Until then, she's left in the dark of what they're facing; what she's facing. It's a struggle for him, for her, for them.

She's little tired, and how much longer she can do it, she's unsure. But she'll keep going for a little more because when she turns to her side, she sees him.

**40. Addict**

There's a warning on her. It's somewhere. And Hotch wonders if that warning he's looking for would read that once and twice and even a third isn't and won't be enough.

**41. Purple**

In New Orleans, they have a case during Mardi Gras.

The music is loud. The streets are too crowded. The people are drunk.

And just his luck, a drink gets bumped into him. He doesn't wear his suit jacket when this happen, which is rare, so he can't remove anything. He thinks he'll smell like cheap beer mixed with stupidity for the rest of the day.

He mumbles that people need self control. His eyes turn and find a topless girl with layers of green and gold beads. There are no purple beads, he notes to himself before looking away.

Her eyes follow where his were previously for a moment before she looks at him.

"You're just too uptight," she informs him with a chuckle.

**42. Beads**

At night Emily's a little (or a lot) rougher on him because she thinks he needs to be less uptight. He needs to loosen up, she reminds him with a smile. A good fuck will do him well.

So she hangs on tight and rides him hard with colorful beads adorning her slender neck. (It is her idea because she's in the festive mood and spirit like the rest of the city. But where she gets the beads he doesn't know because she surprised him with them when she came over.) He sees the colors in the dim room; there are green, gold _and _purple beads, unlike the ones on the girl from earlier.

And when she rides him a little faster and a bit more forceful because his hands seize her hips, the friction feels so good it almost hurts, and the strands beads jingle and jangle alongside one another. Hotch watches (mesmerizes) over how her ample breasts bounce against them, her hard pink nipples peaking every few moments through the trinity of colors when she moves up and down a certain way.

The purple beads aren't that important anymore.

**43. Used**

He wants (needs) to know if she wants (likes) to be used.

**44. Cities**

They find each other a lot late at night. In Montauk, in Charleston, in Santa Fe, in Phoenix, in Galveston, they find each other over and over again.

**45. Gone**

And in Montauk, in Charleston, in Santa Fe, in Phoenix, in Galveston, he finds her gone when he wakes.

**46. Topics**

There are topics that are off limits; topics they may never discuss. Sleeping together then bringing it up is a no-no. It's a given, it's their number one of the list he guesses because they yet have ever talked about it. Other than, he didn't believe anything else was.

**47. Hypocrite**

In Colorado they look for a duo who likes to murder families.

Hotch finds her at the bar sitting at the end of the counter when it's past midnight on the fourth night they're there. She's staring at the amber color liquid in the glass before her and he's quiet walking up.

"Why are you up?"

The question startles her because she jumps at his inquiry, so he murmurs a quiet apology before she speaks. "I can ask you the same thing." She turns her head and her attention back to her drink.

"Just wanted a drink, that's all." He lies (just a little because he does want a drink, but he only fails to inform her that he knocked on her door twice, hoping she'd answer.) A part of her knows though because sometimes she thinks it's obvious what he wants (needs) even if he doesn't notices it himself. And if he wants (needs) her, it won't be tonight because she's not up for it.

"You couldn't sleep?" Emily nods, not bothering to look back at him. He takes the stool beside her without her invitation placing his elbows on the counter as the bartender takes his order.

It's silent between them and he thinks something is wrong with her because she looks very off, almost sad and a little scared since they have arrived four days ago in the state, so he makes his own hypothesis quietly. "Are you having nightmares?" Her back straightens up, and he believes he might have hit something of hers.

"You can talk about them…your nightmares."

He's sounds concern, but it only makes her angry inside. They've been sleeping with one another, not talking. He shouldn't start now. It might be too late to start now, but she doesn't tell him that.

"Everyone get them. You should talk about them. It'll do you good."

Emily scoffs without delay and turns to him, "Do you talk about them? Do you tell people your nightmares?"

He's silent, staring back.

"_Exactly._"

**48. Vodka**

That incident in Colorado isn't forgotten. It remains in the back of her mind. It remains in the back of his mind. But they just leave it there because he's in her again, and it's Manhattan this time (their first in the city). He had called; asking if she'd have liked to come over for a drink. She accepted because it was a long day (it's always a long day), and they pass the bottle of vodka across the glass table until his senses are a bit out of control and he runs his hand through her dark locks and pulls her in.

**49. Sounds**

He grunts.

There are distant horns in the city background.

She whimpers.

There is a knock outside in the halls.

His thrusts are rough. His body is slapping against hers.

But as long as he's fucking her, all the separate sounds are one, and she thinks it's a bit too overwhelming.

**50. Close**

They never sleep close because that might be too much touching. So there is always a few inches between them until she always leaves, and it becomes a few miles between them.

**51. Blood**

On a Thursday night, in South Carolina two weeks later, Hotch questioning what she's made of. The window's open, and he feels a chill, but he doesn't get up to close it. He's too busy thinking, not dreaming.

He wonders if Satan had an affair with Aphrodite and Emily's a descendant of them. But it's minus the love part from the goddess because sometimes when she digs her nails into him when he fucks her, he doesn't feel love.

He feels blood.

**52. Inside**

The search continues for that label he thinks of with the warning about her. He honestly doesn't even know if she has one. But his hands grip her thighs and spread her like he knows how she wants to be.

Maybe it's there... all the way inside. He's going to keep looking.

**53. Nothing **

Every now and then when he fucks her, Emily keeps her eyes open. She does this in Des Moines for the first time. Her eyes don't leave his as he slides in and out of her. Tiny whimpers and deep moans escape from her lips, but he doesn't see anything flash in the eyes she keeps open.

Hotch wonders if she even feels anything at all.

**54. Façade**

She smiles with Reid and Morgan. Those smiles reach her eyes almost, and he speculates as to why she's smiling.

She laughs with Garcia and JJ. The laugh is sweet and light, and he's curious as to what can be so funny.

There are few moments to smile and moments to laugh freely, and with the job, it's difficult to find them. But when he sees her do it, he wants to too- learn to fake it that's it.

**55. Rules**

There's a rule between all of them. They don't profile one another. It's the number one rule, and he doesn't break that rule. But when he looks at her for longer than he should, he breaks that rule (or at least tries because he thinks sometimes it's too difficult to figure her out).

When it comes to her, he breaks a lot of rules.

**56. Beautiful**

She's under him in Hartford.

He stares down at her, even if sometimes he thinks staring at her too long might be a little dangerous. Her cheeks are rosy; he thinks it looks like she's wearing a thick layer of blush. Her eyes are closed. The eyelashes are long and even and curl up just enough. Hair strands stick to her forehead. Her mouth is just slightly ajar from the pants escaping. Her breasts attempt to heave up and down underneath his weight because his hips are still rocking back and forth slightly, finishing his fill inside of her. Hotch really likes the feel of her glistening body (because she doesn't sweat) tangled and glued to him. And when his hips finally come to a halt, his breathing laboring out, he keeps a leveled gaze on her flushed face.

"You're beautiful."

The words slip out accidentally (quietly and steadily not to mention), even if he means it very much so. He's embarrassed when her swollen lips are pursed and she opens her eyes to look at him. Her eyes look never ending and he doesn't know if it's good or bad. But when she gets her breath even, Emily shifts her eyes away his, while giving him a gentle push on his chest (so he gets the hint to be out and off of her) and tells him they shouldn't get sentimental.

**57. Cold**

In Minnesota seventeen days later, he sees her shove her hands into her pockets. When she speaks, the air out her mouth is thick like smoke. Her cheeks are a shade of pink and the tip of her nose matches it.

Hotch asks if she's cold. (Things aren't awkward.) She tells him she is but really, it's fine. He doesn't know how people (she) like the cold, he says. It's uncomfortable and it hurts and it stings. Emily agrees it's all true, what he says about the cold, but when it comes down the line, there is a bright side. He doesn't have a clue what the bright side could be so he asks. She glances at him momentarily before turning her eyes to something else in the area. It's hard to feel anything else when it's cold. That's why people (she) like it; she whispers and walks away.

**58. Thief**

He blames himself now and then when he lies in his bed by himself. Maybe if he wasn't so selfish with using her as his outlet, it wouldn't have happened. But it did. It does because he keeps going back. So it's his own fault that he wants a little more of her each time, and she gives a little more of herself away each time. It's his own fault that when he feels a little more, she feels a little less.

**59. Stop**

They have to stop. He has to stop. He's unsure how to though.

**60. Company**

In Portland Hotch apologizes because he thinks this might be a good time since the thought is nagging every corner of his mind.

She's well aware what he means because she's quick to pick it up in his tone, but she pretends she just doesn't understand, "About what?"

"This." The using, the sex, the stealing he does to her.

Emily sighs as she sits up, her eyes scanning the floor for her clothes. She wants to leave right now even if she usually leaves when he's calm and asleep besides her. Right now seems too much for her, for them.

"Don't apologize if you don't mean it." She never turns around to look at him when the words are spoken.

"I mean it." The sincerity is laced in his voice, but she shrugs it off.

"No, you don't. You need my company."

Because sometimes when he fucks her, Emily thinks she needs his too.

**61. Breathe**

Every so often when Hotch comes right after her and his breathing is ragged and his pants echo hers in the hotel room with the silver moon shining through, he likes to put his head (face) down in the damp area right above the space between her breasts and breathe her in. He doesn't think he has a specific reason for doing so. It just comes naturally.

**62. Curiosity**

Curiosity might kill and his continuing questioning about what she feels and what she's thinking might kill him.

**63. Lyla**

In Raleigh three weeks later, they search for a missing little girl. Her name's Lyla. She's seven, long brown hair and big brown eyes and gone in a blink of an eye from the local superstore.

He finds her standing by the whiteboard, staring at her picture, the one taken from her seventh birthday from six weeks ago. Emily doesn't move. His steps to her are small, and he wonders if she is aware that he's next to her after eleven steps because they both stand frozen and quiet, staring at the missing little girl in the picture.

"I've always liked the name Lyla," she whispers after a minute.

**64. Lose**

They had seventy two hours. It had been seventy two hours of endless searching for the little girl that went missing and in the end, they (she) lose.

And when the sun is setting and the man they had in custody walks away into the freedom they all know he doesn't deserve, Hotch allows his eyes to linger on her as she watches him. She catches him staring at her after a while, but she says nothing. It's a staring contest between them and neither moves a single muscle for what seems longer than it actually is before her head lowers and her body turns away from him.

They (she) lose that too.

**65. Different**

It'll be nice to talk, he thinks to himself. Maybe if he talks about the things that are bothering him, he'll feel better. Maybe if she talks about the things that are bothering her, she'll feel better too. Maybe if they both talk to each other, what they're doing might stop.

Hotch wants to start first; ask her if she's okay like he has done time and time before. He doesn't know how though because it's different now.

**66. Crawl**

She wants to walk tall and strong, but then she finds herself stumbling quickly. And before she registers what she is doing, she's on her hands and knees crawling down the same path somewhere back to wherever he is.

**67. Please**

She knocks on his door when it's sixteen minutes past one later that night. He is in bed wide awake when this occurs. And when Hotch looks though the little hole and sees her there, he opens the door; she pushes him back and closes the barrier to the outside world with her foot.

There is no waiting. There is no hesitation. Her lips crash onto his as she is pushing him further down his room. (They have done this before; the forcefulness, the lack of foreplay, but this isn't like the other times. This doesn't feel like the other times.) Her hands immediately move to his shirt, tugging, tugging and tugging. She wants it off now while he has yet to form any reaction. He manages to grab hold of the hands on him by the wrists.

"Emily-"

"Fuck me."

She makes another move to his mouth, to his shirt. She wants (needs) him to stop talking.

"Emily-"

"Just shut up… _please_."

The desperation (pain) drips from her plead, so he lets her pull his shirt off and move her hands to the strings of his sweatpants. When the strings come untied and she pushes the sweatpants down, her chilled hands connect to his warm flesh. The soft cotton shirt she wears is over her head soon after and the satin bra that shields her from him falls before he takes control and guides her to the unmade bed. Her hands go to his head and fist his hair. She falls back and his face is buried into her breasts as his hands are swift on her jeans and lace panties. And in one pull, he manages to expose her and straddles above her. She finishes the rest of her job and push down his boxers. Her hands are shaking, almost frantic, trying to guide him into her. But Hotch helps her (half wondering what is wrong with her and half thinking that this time sleeping with her might be a big mistake).

In seven seconds though, he grants her plead and fucks her.

**68. Help**

She was supposed to help him, letting him fuck her so he'd feel something besides the pain and numbness. But now things change because he's fucking her so she'd feel something besides the pain and numbness.

Things change after a while.

**69. Feel**

He pretends to sleep this time when she decides to leave again. It's easy to do because he has fake sleep before. And he fools her because when Emily slowly gets up like all those other times, not wanting to disturb him, he feels her freezing and staring down at him for a very long second, watching him and listening to the steady breaths that come with sleep before she pulls the covers off herself.

The gathering of her clothes is heard in the silence. Hotch opens his eyes just slightly and her back is to him. She slides her legs into her jeans (there's some noise with this because of the wrinkled denim), and pulls her shirt back on, forgoing the bra in her hands.

His eyes immediately close when she turns back around and in a moment, he feels her breath close on him. Her lips are hard, but the kiss he feels is soft.

The creak of his door opening and closing is heard subsequently next. Hotch lies with eyes back open and touches his lips with his fingertips, thinking that maybe she does feel something after all.

**70. Walls**

He is in over his head. He's over thinking because now he wonders if the cautionary words will tell him she wants (needs) him as much as he wants (needs) her. He wonders if she knows what her own warning reads.

**71. Enlightenment**

In the morning, she waits with him for everyone in the lobby for the flight back home. She stands beside him, silently, looking at her phone. He brings up last night because for a minute he has forgotten that they don't talk about sleeping together, and Emily shoots him a look. Apathy with a hint of fear or just plain deadly, Hotch debates in his head. She wants him to forget last night. It was just the case that got to her because she doesn't do that often. He's doesn't know what _that_ is. You know the whole damsel in distress thing; it's not her forte.

That's a one time thing, she enlightens him. It's gone now.

**72. Regardless**

Hotch assumes that maybe one of her warnings is that she likes to run.

Or maybe she likes to flee because that might mean leaving faster.

He really wants to know even if he believes she comes back regardless.

**73. Good**

Three days later, Emily comes into work and smiles at him. It takes him back because for three days she has ignored him as much as she could, so the man that rarely smiles unless he's with his son returns the gesture to her.

And when he's pouring his coffee, Emily stands close to him, and holds out her own mug for him to fill. He takes his black, but she adds a spoonful of Splenda, but no cream, and smiles again.

"How was your weekend?"

She's in a good mood.

"Good… it was good."

She smiles again, "Good."

**74. Thoughtful**

Emily buys him coffee (again). The next week after she asks how his weekend was, she brings him a cup of coffee and places it by his files and folders (again).

"It's good coffee. I just thought you'll like some."

She grins and leaves without his response. He stares at her gift for a minute before taking a sip of the hot liquid, without smelling it like the first time. Hotch burns the tip of his tongue, but agrees that it is good coffee.

**75. Fire**

When he touches her, his hands are leaving marks all over. She thinks she sees his handprints when she looks in the mirror. When he kisses her, it stings. She has to lick her lips to cool them off. When he slips his fingers into her, she feels him reaching for something. She doesn't know what, but she wants him to keep reaching because her eyes roll back into her head and pants leave from her lips. When he's in her, pushing and pushing, the fire in the pit of her stomach forms and spreads and she feels it in every fiber of her being. She doesn't understand what is happening then.

Her body is blazing, but nothing will put it out.

**76. Changes**

Perhaps something might be changing. Something's always changing in the world and Hotch doesn't pretend a part of him wants them to be the next something that could be changing soon.

**77. Genuine**

For two weeks, Emily is smiling to him and to others, and Hotch thinks the smiles are genuine.

**78. Newark**

In Newark (he thinks this is one of the shittiest cities in the country, he works up the courage, after contemplating for a week of how to ask, how to do it because it's been over twenty years since he has done this), Hotch asks her if she's busy when she gets home. He'd like to take her to dinner, granting she says yes and because Jack has a sleepover with his cousins on Saturday night.

(If she says yes, this might brighten the shitty city, and be part of the beginning of the changing he wants with them, he tells himself. And he might get a little closer to finding that warning of hers also).

But Emily stares at him for a moment before looking away and whispers to him that they fuck and then forget until the next time they fuck. That's what they do. They shouldn't mix business with pleasure (it's dangerous, she adds) and turns away.

He doesn't know which is which though, and he's a little hurt.

**79. Possibilities**

Like everyone else, she sleeps on the way back home. She gets the couch this time because that's the first place she sits the moment they stepped on.

He can't sleep because he imagines that his body hates him a little for all the stress and scars he puts on it. So in the barely lit jet, he watches her for a while. She sleeps on her side underneath her suit jacket, her face towards him with her hands tucked underneath her cheek like a child and her long legs curled slightly. She stirs for a moment, her eyes fluttering for a brief second before she's falling still again. The strays of hair behind her ear tumble from behind and onto her face while the suit jacket droops off her shoulders. He's quiet out of his seat a minute later, and in three steps, he bends down beside her. The suit jacket is tugged back over her shoulder, and the fallen stray hairs are pushed back. For the small moment he's watching her, Hotch allows his fingers to gently linger down the side of her cheek and wonder what could've happened if she said yes.

**80. Surrender**

This time he believes he has succeeded and finds the label of what to be cautious of when it comes to her. He's nervous but happy because he might get to know something (or everything) about all that needs to be known of her. But then he takes a closer look, only to realize it's just his imagination. It's not there. It's still a guessing game.

He considers for a minute that maybe he should give up.

**81. Surprises**

Saturday night (the night he wanted to take her out to dinner), Hotch sits at the dining room table with files open and the local news in the background. No dinner and no Jack, he finds company with work. He's lonely (or just alone) again (tonight), and he wonders what she's doing now. He lets his mind wander down the possibilities.

Maybe she's at home, alone, working like him. Maybe she's out with JJ and Garcia, like the girls night he hears they usually have. Or maybe she's in someone else's (or her own) bed, fucking and forgetting like what they are supposed do.

He shakes his head at the last scenario because he doesn't want to picture that when he-.

The knock at his door breaks him out of his thoughts. Hotch is grateful for the interruption and quickly moves up (there is another knock) and out of his chair towards the door. He imagines his eyes are deceiving him when he looks though the peephole, but he slowly unhooks the chain still and opens the door.

"Hey."

**82. Longer**

The thought about giving up is erased because he's deciding against it now. He'll look a little bit longer and work a little harder for what he wants to find.

**83. Fragile**

She sits on his couch to his right in a clingy little black dress wearing the shoes with the red soles on her feet. That was the second thing he noticed when he let her in. The first was the frail smile on her face when she greeted him. A glass of red wine is in her hand now and Emily stares at that instead of looking at him, even when he takes glances at her every now and then. It's silent between them, almost deafening, because she has yet to tell him why she's here, so there is no current conversation.

"You were out?" He believes he's brave to ask and break the silence.

She says nothing for a long while, and he assumes he will not get a response from her.

"Yeah… with JJ and Garcia."

He likes (loves) the answer and he hears his insides breathe a sigh of relief.

"You look nice."

Hotch wants to tell her she looks beautiful because he believes she really does now and most other times, but he's afraid and doesn't want her to push him away like last time. Emily whispers a faint thank you, which surprises him, but the silence resumes once more soon after.

"What are you doing here?"

Emily's quiet yet again, and he stares at her and how she runs her index finger along the rim of the wine glass round and round. Minutes pass in stillness with his eyes on her and her eyes away from his before she turns look at him finally, and he thinks he sees a glimmer of something he's never seen before and cannot identify.

"I don't know."

It's her honest answer.

**84. Dissection**

"Do you want to pick me apart?" (Does he want to see everything she hides?)

"Do you want me to?" (He wants to.)

"I don't know." (She's scared of what he might find and not find.)

A lot of something is happening tonight, he thinks to himself. (Where will they go from here?)

**85. Comparison**

She kisses him first again. It's tender and softer than the soft kiss she left him with in Raleigh, and he thinks that it's almost sweet.

**86. Slow**

Everything moves in a slow motion this time. His mouth, her hands, their steps and the way her clingy little black dress falls down like a ribbon to her feet are slow. Her head is spinning though.

**87. Tears**

She cries a little this time. She doesn't know why (yet), but she does when he enters her, and he fears he's hurting her and stops. She tells (pleads) him not to. She wants him to keep going. She wants (needs) him inside her.

So Hotch obliges with his thrusts slow and gentle at first before the pace is quickened and the thrusts are harder, but not rough. Her nails press into his shoulders as she lifts her hips and arches her back for him. She wants as much of him in her as possible. And when he pushes her over, spilling into her, feeling her walls clench around him with the passing seconds, Emily cries just a little bit more.

**88. Fears**

It's not pain that is felt, but passion, and she's a little bit petrified of what it might lead to.

**89. Anticipation**

Her head is on his pillow, and she smells the lingering scent of something woodsy and coffee with the tiniest hint of peppermint he leaves behind every time he has used it.

Emily feels it; him wanting to pull her close because their thighs are touching more than they ever do, and she imagines his fingertips inching towards her hand between them.

**90**. **Awareness**

She scares him sometimes. Hotch thinks it might be because he wants (needs) her too much and he feels different when he does get her. But this time she scares him because she cried and he doesn't know what to think of it. A part of him wants to pull her closer, but he remembers they don't do that because it still might be considered too much touching, even now, even after so long.

He doesn't think she knows; what he wants to do because he doesn't make a move. He won't make a move. But then she stuns him when she shifts the few inches to him and places her head on his warm chest and his arm takes only eight seconds before it covers her naked back, Hotch realizes that she might have known it all along.

**91. Innocence**

"What are we doing?"

"I don't know."

**92. Scars**

Emily shifts in his arm twenty minutes later, the covers are pulled along with her small movements, falling lower on his body.

"Do they hurt?"

Her voice is a little husky and soft, and he likes it.

"Does what hurt?"

"Your scars. Do they hurt?"

Hotch doesn't realize the covers had fallen (that much) lower. He feels self-conscious now. He doesn't want her looking so closely, not now, and probably not ever. He doesn't know where this conversation is going, but he answers her anyway because they're close right now and he feels the heavy stare at the nine irremovable pink band aids.

"Sometimes… when I think about them too much or look at them too much, then it hurts." She nods against his chest.

Silence again.

"Can I touch them?"

He thinks it's an odd request because she has felt them before. When her lips and hands have felt and wander his body on countless of nights in different cities of the country, she had felt them, felt his disgust, felt his mistakes.

"Yeah… you can touch them."

Her fingers are hesitant moving up from his covered thighs before she slowly touches the puckered flesh. She outlines each of them, feeling the tiny wrinkles with their individual shapes and sizes. He says nothing though, but merely observes her and her fingertips. He expects her to speak when she is done because she places her hand back onto his covered thighs, but Emily says nothing herself. And then they lay in silence for a long while in the dim light of his bedroom breathing and listening to the creaks from no where and everywhere surrounding them until her soft and cracked voice breaks through.

"I'm glad you were okay."

**93. Louboutin**

She's in his arms still even after that and a while more because the longer she stays there, the more she wants to stay there. And the longer she wants to stay there, the more she feels something, and she wants to feel that something because being in his arms when they aren't just fucking feels different in the good way. It's quiet and he hears the cars drive by outside and the people who are awake this late at the hour when they speak too loudly. The pale light is courtesy of the lamp to his right, and when Hotch closes his eyes, he wants to let her know the thought that has been nagging a tiny part of his brain since that one Friday months ago he saw her in the skirt.

"The soles of your shoes are red."

A faint chuckle comes from her mouth (despite the lightness of it, it tugs his heart some because it sounds real) and tickles his chest before she informs him, "Louboutin."

"Excuse me?" He doesn't know what she says.

"They're French."

His eyebrows rise into an arch, even if she's not looking at him, before inquiring curiously, "Your shoes?"

"Yes, my shoes."

"Oh."

"They're expensive."

"They're nice." Hotch likes them on her… a lot, but he keeps mum on that.

"Thank you."

There is the quiet once again with his hand resting on her bare and warm shoulder now, and he believes that if it stays put for a little longer, his hand could be molded into her soft flesh.

"Louboutin."

The name off his tongue isn't smooth, not like how she says it. His French isn't good at all because he knows two words: "Bonjour" (hello) and "merci" (thank you). That's all he knows really. Emily lifts her head up and props herself up on her arm.

"Christian Louboutin."

She says it for him. It's slow out of her mouth and he stares at how her lips shape and move with the name. He enjoys the French out of her mouth, and it takes him a moment to remember the Italian, Russian, and Spanish words that rolled off that same tongue as he decides that he likes her linguistic knowledge.

"Say it again."

So Hotch tries again, and he believes a little that she's playing around with him because she tells him it's better than the first time, but she still does not like it. So she shakes her head with a teasing grin.

"Dites-le correctement. Vous obtiendrez une récompense." (Say it correctly. You'll get a reward.)

He raises his eyebrows because he's doesn't have an inkling of the words that he just heard. Emily wets her still partially swollen lips before lowering her head, kissing and sucking on his bottom lip.

"Keep trying."

Then it takes him three more tries after that before Emily tells him it's perfect.

And she keeps her promise for the whole night with round three being his favorite because the heels of those Louboutins prod into his lower back when he fits completely into her.

**94. Connections**

His touch roams on her smooth skin. His hands rub up her thighs and across her flat stomach. His fingertips outline her breasts and graze against her nipples. Emily shudders under his soft touch before her own hands shift. Her own fingers touches him lightly as they move up, passing along the few scars she had touched for the first time hours ago to his chest. Her hands are on his sides soon after, gripping just gently and tugging him just a little lower to her. Hotch braces himself up above her with hands on either side of her head, and they make eye contact.

"Hey."

"Hey."

And she thinks her head, her world might have stopped spinning just for a bit.

**95. Maybe**

Maybe they can be something, Emily imagines. When they stop just fucking and forgetting, they might have a possibility of being something more.

**96. Tonight**

She stays tonight. She stays even after when he falls asleep. She stays in his bed, in his arms she stays as she falls into her own slumber.

**97. Relief**

When Hotch wakes up with the sun peeking through the horizons, he's surprised but very relieved because she's still in his arms asleep. It feels different, but he's not bothered by it because he thinks that he could get used to the different, this, her in his bed, in his arms.

**98. Beginnings**

She's dressed back in that clingy little black dress she showed up in last night in the morning when the sun has risen above the horizon for an hour. The Louboutins are back on her feet as well, and she stands in front of him because she needs to leave and he's picking up Jack soon. They are by his door, her gaze to her covered toes with his gaze to her. The nervousness is thick around them because this, seeing each other so close after they sleep together, is a brand new thing.

He speaks first like last night again.

"I'll see you in the office tomorrow."

Emily lifts her head, and a faint curve is formed on her face.

"Yeah… I'll see you tomorrow."

They remain motionless for a minute. He's unsure if he should take another step forward, to give her a kiss or a hug because even after last night, he remains uncertain what could push her away again. He doesn't want that. But then her head is lowered slightly when she turns around from him. His hand is on the doorknob, and the door is opened slowly before her gentle touch stops it. Hotch waits for a few seconds before she spins back around to face him once more. Her voice is timid and small as her eyes locked with his.

"About that dinner…I wouldn't mind. If you haven't changed your mind...I'd like it…"

It takes a moment for the words from her mouth to register in his head before he nods slightly and replies with a small smile, "No… I haven't changed my mind."

Emily nods slowly herself (that faint curve never having left her face) and takes a small step up; touching his cheek with her soft and warm lips before twisting her heels back around and out his door.

**99. Eventually**

She doesn't have one. A warning, that is. What she does (to him), what she feels (about him, about everything), who she is (to her, to him, to everyone), it's a mystery to him. Under her layers, her compartmentalizing, it's going to be his surprise (since the beginning she has been nothing but that, he contemplates to himself).

So he supposes that it wouldn't matter anyway- having that (visible) warning that told him all about her. Whatever the circumstances, he believes he would've found his way to her. He would have fallen into her, and she would have fallen into him. He'd get his chance to know something and everything more about her. It'll take time, but he's willing to wait.

**100. Fin**

End.


End file.
